Some days the symptoms are worse than others

Today time felt as slow as molasses and as quick as a blink.  I woke up raw after yesterday’s anger, and wven with a lot to get done I was frozen in place.  I couldn’t move.  My stomach was doing flip flops.  My muscles were sore. With stress on top of it, everything was triggering me.

I remembered a drawing from when I was doing art therapy.  (Please remember in art therapy, there are no technical aspects to it.  It’s a way to let out your feelings and emotions without concern for the finished product.)  It was one I had done right before I entered a hospital for some intensive inpatient treatment for my CPTSD.  I normally don’t share my drawings, but to me it captures my emotions so well. IMG_2200 (2)

I can remember feeling like this many times over my life.  I am thankful that now the feeling doesn’t last as long as it used to.  I was able to get myself up and out of the house, and therefore out of my own mind.  I didn’t accomplish everything I wanted to do today, but with any mental issue/disease/disorder, sometimes you have to make time for you, even if you don’t seem to have the time to do so.

As guilty as I feel about making time for myself, I’m thankful that I did.  If I don’t address the feelings and triggers, it does get worse.  This is not something you can put on the back burner and deal with later.  I’m thankful that I know this now.  It shows growth in my healing.  Sometimes I just have to remind the girl who was abused how much we have to be thankful for.  Gratitude doesn’t change what has to be done, but it does change my outlook and attitude towards it.

Note – I’ve updated the poetry page of my blog.  These are my works throughout the years.  Some are blunt about how I was feeling at the time, but if you want a look inside the thoughts of someone surviving, they lay it out there good and bad.  Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

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1 thought on “Some days the symptoms are worse than others”

  1. Your drawing is actually how I feel lots of time. During my depression, I actually envied a garbage bag, seeing that people stayed away from it. Even when I got better, I was obsessed with a desire to stay alone inside my room, turn off the light, and sit in a narrow corner beside my bed where no one can see me even if he enters the room. Frankly speaking, the same desire visits me every once and a while. I usually write myself out of it.

    Liked by 1 person

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